


Three Little Words

by SweetSinger2010



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Spacemom and space son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSinger2010/pseuds/SweetSinger2010
Summary: Ezra sits with Hera after her injuries at Concord Dawn and has something to say. One-shot.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Hera Syndulla
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	Three Little Words

Three Little Words

Ezra heard the medbay door whoosh open, but he didn’t turn. For one thing, he was afraid that if he made too much eye contact with Kanan, he’d accidentally spill his guts about Sabine hiding out in the _Phantom_ to get in on the Concord Dawn mission _._ And if he did that, he’d be dead by morning for sure—Sabine had said, very clearly: _If you screw this up for me, I will slit your throat from ear to ear and watch you bleed out in your sleep._

So there was that to consider.

But mostly, Ezra was afraid that if he took his eyes off Hera, all the alarms and monitors would go berserk and she’d slip away.

“Hey,” Kanan said, right behind him. “She’s gonna be alright.”

Ezra frowned. “You all set to go talk to the crazy Mandos?” It was a non-sequitur.

“Sabine hear you talk about her people that way?”

“Trust me,” Ezra snorted and spared a glance over his shoulder, “that would be the least of my problems right now where she’s concerned.”

“What does that even—”

“Never mind.”

Rolling his eyes, Kanan walked around to the other side of Hera’s bed. He glanced at the displays and his mouth turned in a tight smile. Ezra watched as he gently stroked her forehead and he had to swallow against a lump rising in his throat; the way Kanan looked at Hera was the same way that his father used to look at his mother. Ezra had to swipe a hand across his eyes.

“So you think she’s really okay?” Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his voice from wavering.

Kanan looked up. “I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t.” He gestured to Hera’s bandages and the tubes and wires in her arm. “This isn’t great, but I’ve seen her pull through a lot worse.”

Ezra’s eyes widened. “Worse than being shot half to death in an A-wing? Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Kanan laughed softly. “‘Yikes’ is right. But Hera is strong, and she’s stubborn, and she’s not going anywhere.”

“Sure.” Ezra kept his eyes glued to the monitors. He heard Kanan sigh.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The door whooshed open again and Kanan stood in the threshold. “Don’t exhaust yourself, Ezra,” he said, voice firm. “She’ll be okay if you don’t sit here every minute. I promise.”

“Yeah.” Ezra nodded. “Be careful down there.”

“Aren’t I always?”

With that, Kanan turned and left.

Ezra slouched in his seat, eyes _still_ trained on the monitors at Hera’s bedside. Only a couple short hours ago, when her injuries were fresh and her condition unstable, the numbers and indicators flashed red. Now, they were green and yellow—a good sign. But Ezra’s insides still twisted. Seeing Hera so still and pale—

Well, it was just flat scary.

She’d been one blaster bolt away from dying in that A-wing, and Ezra wasn’t sure he could survive losing anyone else. Not now—not while the news of his parents’ death was still so fresh.

“You gotta be okay,” he said. The hair on his arms stood on end, unnerved by the sound of his voice in the quiet room. Hera, of course, stayed still and quiet. Ezra cleared his throat. “I mean, I know that Kanan said and the droid said that you’re gonna be okay. Like—in my head, I _know_ that.”

 _But?_ He imagined her voice, clear as a bell. He could almost see her sitting at the _Ghost’s_ helm, head tilted to the side, eyes warm and kind and gently inquisitive.

“But,” he said through clenched teeth, “I didn’t—I don’t—you’re—” He huffed, frustrated. “This is why I stuck out on my own for so long. Because it _sucks_ when something happens to the people you lo—”

He stopped short, surprised by the word that almost fell out of his mouth. _Love?_ He hesitated. He blinked, suddenly misty-eyed. He reached for the slim hand of the woman who was like a bossy older sister, foster mother, and steadfast commanding officer all rolled into one. “Yeah,” he whispered roughly. “I love you, Hera.” He meant it, but it was such a foreign thing to say and his heart raced. “I mean—not like—not like _that_ ,” he stammered quickly, face flushing, “you’re—you’re family to me, Hera. And family means a lot.”

He knew that she would smile softly and say, _I know._

Ezra kept her hand between his and his eyes on the vitals display until the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor lulled him to sleep.

* * *

The same beeping that put him to sleep woke him up, but it was wrong this time—rapid and uneven. He sat bolt upright, his own heart lodged in his throat as he blinked himself awake. “Hera? Hera?”

She was struggling to push off the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, clearly in pain and disoriented. Her eyes were half open and unfocused and she mumbled unintelligibly.

“Hey, I’ve got you.” Ezra was on his feet in an instant—the he realized that sleeping in a crumpled heap in that chair had put one arm to sleep. “Kriff _me_ —hang on, Hera.”

Right arm dangling useless, Ezra fumbled with his left to help Hera get the mask off, and he carefully put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from sitting up. “You got hurt, but you’re okay. You’re okay.”

Her voice was thick. “I don’t remember—Sabine—”

“She’s fine, I promise.” Hera’s body relaxed and she took a few deep breaths. Ezra slowly settled back into his chair, perched on the edge in case she needed something. “Do you want me to get the med droid?”

“Mm.” She shook her head slightly. After a few moments, she opened her eyes again, her gaze beginning to clear. “If you’re here,” she said slowly, “that means Kanan—”

“Went back to Concord Dawn to try diplomacy.”

Hera shifted slightly, wincing. “Real diplomacy or lightsaber diplomacy?”

Ezra stifled a grin. “One of those, yes.”

“And Sabine?” There was a look in her eye—she knew. Ezra scuffed the floor with the toe of his boot.

“According to Imperial Senate Article 2, Amendment 5, I—”

Hera snorted softly. “She went when she wasn’t supposed to, and threatened you to keep quiet.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “A little bit.” He paused, looking at Hera. Her color was returning and all the indicators on the monitors were trending green more than yellow. “I’m glad you’re back. I was worried. Not like _worried_ worried, but worried _enough_ —” He exhaled noisily, trying to stop himself from chattering. “I’m sorry about Phoenix Three and Four, but—I’m glad _you’re_ okay. I know that’s selfish.”

A shadow crossed Hera’s face even as she gave a small smile. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I feel the same way about Sabine escaping the attack. I’d feel the same about any one of my crew.”

“Well…” Ezra cleared his throat, unsure what to say. “Hopefully we don’t ever have to put that to the test.”

“Hopefully not,” Hera agreed. 

At that moment, the med droid came in, fussing at Ezra to vacate so that Hera could be examined thoroughly. Reluctant, Ezra rose and headed to the door. “I can come back later. If you want, I mean.”

Hera smiled even as her eyes began to droop. “You’re good company.”

“Cool.” He grinned. “I’ll catch you later, then.”

“Ezra?”

“Yeah?”

“I—” Her voice broke. “I know you were talking to me earlier and I heard…” She struggled—it wasn’t always an easy thing to say, Ezra knew, even to family.

_I love you._

He nodded. “I know.”


End file.
